


Aquarelle

by antisocialhood



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Affection, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boyfriends, Cuddling, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fondness, Love, Luke is needy, M/M, Michael would do anything for him, Oral Sex, Relationship(s), Research, Rough Sex, Smut, Snuggling, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top!Michael, Touchy-Feely, artist!AU, artist!luke, bottom!Luke, but he's not really a chef just a good cook, chef!Michael, heart eyes, it's a long opening sorry, oil paints, watercolouring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:34:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antisocialhood/pseuds/antisocialhood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael was slow fucking into him, taking his time to build a pace that would ultimately drive Luke nuts and probably give him the best orgasm of his life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aquarelle

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I've had major writer's block for like a week which is why I haven't posted anything, but somehow this came out of the week of hell. I think it's pretty cute, but I'll leave you to decide that.
> 
> Title is the French word for watercolour. I thought that would be different and pretty cute.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Water splashed from a old chipped teacup as Luke dipped his paintbrush in, swirling it around to wash off the red watercolour. It stained the raggedy white sheet beneath it a purplish hue and when Luke dried the brush a few faded red streaks marred the cloth. 

He could hear Michael rustling through the newspaper, mumbling beneath his breath at how lame the funnies were and the shitty state of the world. He dipped his brush into the blue and slid it across the papyrus, carefully .

Quite frankly, he hated water-colouring but Michael absolutely loved it, and Luke just couldn't say no. It was easier to use oil paints and gave Luke more time to figure out the shades he would use, not to mention more time for him to mix the paints with turpentine for a glossier look.

The water in the teacup slowly turned an earthy green. Luke took the cup to the sink and washed it out before filling it with fresh water and bringing it back to his working area in the corner of the kitchen by the oversized bay window. He had a view of the street below and the cherry blossom trees that lined the pavement. The sunlight was bright coming in, enough that taking a picture of the easel and watercolour set with the window backing it was enough to be considered art. 

It was Luke's favourite place in the flat and he spent a majority of his time there, whether painting or sketching out a measly landscape he'd never colour. Michael was usually in the kitchen too, mainly cooking or reading the newspaper. They didn't have a television and the computer was slow, enough that Luke had almost given up on the clunk of metal. 

It was nice though, the silence that was only broken by music and talking. 

Luke sighed, glancing over at Michael who was poring over a cookbook, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Luke liked when Michael was in the mood to cook, it meant long nights of strange foods and candle lit dinners, and probably with some footsies under the table.

He closed his watercolour set and cleaned off the numerous paint brushes spread out on the sheet, making sure to clean the bottoms of the bristles for any hidden colour. The painting itself wasn't quite finished but Luke was. He liked to step back from the art for a few days and rework his thoughts of what the piece should look like, it gave him a greater understanding of what he wanted out of the papyrus and paints. 

Michael made a soft noise, almost a hum of approval and Luke turned to look at him. He was staring at the artwork, slowly digesting every inch of the papyrus canvas and its many colours. Michael was Luke's biggest critic, but everything was said with a gentle easing because Luke wasn't perfect and sometimes his art wasn't up to par. 

Still, every piece of Luke's work that they'd kept was shown throughout the house, leaving behind a splash of colour in the otherwise dark rooms. 

Luke had wanted to paint them pastel colours, things that was warm and cool at the same time and made people feel comfortable, but Michael had wanted dark rooms that gave off an extra warmth in the bitter winter months, and of course, Luke didn’t bother arguing.

“What do you feel like tonight?” Michael asked closing the cookbook and sighing.

Luke turned to look at him again. The older boy looked bored, probably because he wasn’t actually making anything yet. He shrugged and dried off the brushes, placing them on the sheet, pink dampness spreading around the bristles. “Anything’s fine.”

Michael sighed, moving about the kitchen and gathering the various items needed for whatever he was preparing. Luke sat down, watching him. He loved when Michael cooked, like absolutely adored it; the way he was everywhere at once and had every inch of the kitchen covered in ingredients and utensils. The best though was when he was baking; there was always flour everywhere and loud classical music playing. Luke loved coming up the drive hearing Mozart blasting from the open kitchen window, and it was almost too cute finding Michael working ever so swiftly at the treat.

“Clean up your brushes.” Michael hated when Luke left a mess and was always on his back about leaving his supplies strewn around the kitchen. He swore that Luke did it just to annoy him and the younger boy always denied it with a small pout, but both knew he was lazy and forgetful.

Luke reached for the brushes, fingertips almost touching the wooden ends. He gave a loud huff and shrugged in Michael’s direction. “Can’t reach.”

Michael shot him a dry look. “I’m not impressed, clean up your shit and wash your brushes better. I’m not running out for you again because you need new ones.”

He did that a lot and liked to think it was a minor setback because all artists had a weak point and Luke’s just happened to be his ability to clean the brushes to max perfection. Michael called bullshit the second time Luke pleaded with him at eight in the morning to run to the hobby store a few blocks away and pick him up three #14 angular flat brushes and a #2 spotter. Luke liked when Michael got mad early in the morning. He would flop around in the bed, throwing covers in every direction before slipping his feet into his slippers and go into the bathroom to get ready.

Luke always had a cup of coffee ready for his boyfriend because Michael without coffee at eight in the morning was a recipe for disaster that Luke really didn’t want to deal with. Michael would grumble and whine about being awake before the sun was even fully up but he’d kiss Luke on the cheek softly and sometimes slap his ass, depending on how good the coffee was (Luke was absolute shit at brewing a good cup) before making his way out of the house.

He felt Michael’s hands on his shoulders, rubbing slowly. Michael probably thought Luke was in that spaced out zone he fell into sometimes when he got too caught up in his work. It was a reflex for Luke to lean into Michael’s touch, the soft hands and gentle fingertips that warmed him up and drove him back to the present.

~~~

They had an agreement that whoever didn’t cook had to do the dishes; which meant Luke did them every night with the lavender dish wash and a checkered cloth. Michael always dried, chattering on about recipes he wanted to try and discussing Luke’s newest pieces. 

Nights were quiet for the most part. Michael played his classical music at a lower volume, but nonetheless it played, and Luke would read a book or sketch out a rough idea of something he’d want to do in the future. And then, there were the loud nights with rough touches and stolen kisses. They were Luke’s favourite.  
Luke liked to wear Michael’s shirts because he always bought two sizes too big and the fabric pooled around Luke’s thighs effortlessly. He looked like a swallowed up little thing with floppy blond hair that begged to be tamed and long, pale legs that probably belonged on a flamingo or some other sort of wild bird that sucked at walking. Michael seemed to enjoy seeing Luke in his clothes too, which was a huge plus because a happy Michael meant loads of affection, and Luke loved affection.

“Really, Luke?” Michael raised an eyebrow in mock annoyance. He was under the blankets covering the bed, torso bathed in the soft yellow of the light on the nightstand as he read a book with a worn out cover.

Luke shrugged, a shy smile playing at his lips. He stood in the doorway of the room, one of Michaels black shirts, a brand new one to be exact, hanging on his body loosely. He knew what Michael saw; a gangly blond boy with bright blue eyes and cuddling arms, and he knew the older boy, no matter the fact Michael hadn't gotten to wear the shirt yet, wasn't all too bothered by the way Luke stood against the doorframe with a smile on his face, almost begging for attention.

He shuffled across the room and climbed onto the bed. Michael sat his book down on the nightstand as Luke laid his head on Michaels chest. He could hear the older boys heartbeat, the steady 'thump thump' was soothing. It made Luke relax into Michaels body, arms going to his waist and squeezing. 

Michael ran his fingers through Luke's hair, brushing the messy strands from his face softly. His hand drifted down Luke's shoulders, rubbing at his neck and shoulders, massaging the tension from Luke's body completely.

Luke could feel the tips of his fingers dancing along the hem of the shirt he had on, brushing the skin of his thighs ever so lightly. It was teasing and Luke's body gave a soft shiver at the gesture. He loved when Michael was soft with him, taking his time to embrace every inch of Luke's body, the way his hips were narrow and sharp, and bruised easily when he stumbled into the corners of things, and how he had a few freckles decorating the skin of his stomach. Michael liked to play with the freckles, connecting them with his fingers when Luke lay next to him in the middle of the night, their breaths soft and shallow, and their eyes slipping shut.

His legs were pressed against the warmth of Michaels and he quickly attempted to tangle them up. 

Michaels hand slowly drifted up the back of Luke's shirt. He trailed his fingers up Luke's thighs, feeling the prickly goosebumps Luke knew were there. Michael cupped Luke's ass softly, pushing the cheeks up and Luke sighed. He always sighed when Michael finally touched him, probably because he was relieved the older boy had finally done something more than drag his fingers up the expanse of Luke's back. 

It was quiet in the room and Luke wished for music, something to distract him from the faint feeling of Michaels hands making their way to his hips, pinching at the sharp bone beneath a pale layer of skin. 

His neck hairs stood on end at the soft caresses. Michael’s touch was gentle and soothing, and he took his time. The shirt was pushed up on his body, leaving his back bare to the cool air in the room and Michael’s hands warming his skin. Michael had his one hand clutching Luke’s shirt tightly, bunching up the cotton material near the nape of his neck. 

Luke turned his head so he was looking at Michael. He could feel Michael’s chest rising and falling with each breath he took. Michael stared at him with big green eyes, his hand stroking over Luke's hipbone softly. "What?"

"Nothing." Luke breathed. He shuffled his body up, almost nose to nose with Michael now. "I just... you're so lovely."

Michael rolled his eyes, smiling. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of Luke's mouth. "You're adorable, shut up."

Luke squirmed around a bit. He could smell the faint scent of soap clinging to Michaels skin. It was one of his favourite scents after the older boys aftershave and deodorant. His eyelids were heavy and he let out a small yawn, untangling his arms from around Michaels torso to rub at his eyes.

The sound of a car beeping outside was the only noise Luke heard for a while. He liked the quiet though. It was something he was used to and it was just pleasant overall. 

Luke struggled to get comfortable before Michael grunted and rolled them so Luke was plastered to his side. He could still hear Michaels heartbeat and feel his breathing patterns but he was ten times more comfortable and was able to pull the blankets over his own body.

He watched as Michael sat up and turned the light off. Luke missed the warm softness of his chest under his face. Michael shuffled around the room, moving things out of the way in case like got up in the middle of the night (he was a complete idiot in the dark and Michael probably didn't want to have to get up in the early morning to pry Luke off the floor) before climbing back into bed. He chuckled when Luke pressed up against his side, arms resting on his stomach.

~~~

It was still dark out; the sun wasn't even peeking over the horizon when Luke woke up. He looked to Michael who was sleeping, mouth open and face soft.

He didn't want to wake his boyfriend, he knew how Michael got when woken, especially this early in the morning. But god, he was so hard and Michaels hand had been tight on his ass, he couldn't help himself when he poked the older boys side.

Michael didn't even stir, not that Luke was surprised. He continued to nudge the boy until he let out a soft murmur. Luke squirmed around, knees knocking Michaels.

"What the hell do you want?" Michael slurred out the words, voice heavy with sleep. 

Luke pouted, taking Michaels hand in his. He ran the older boys fingers up under his shirt along his tummy. Michael let out a sound, a mix of a groan and hum of content. Michael seemed to understand, rolling over onto his stomach, body leaning on Luke's. He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Luke's mouth and the younger boy let out a soft whine. He hated when Michael played games when he was trying to initiate something. 

"Michael." Luke drug his name out slightly, pinching the older boys side harshly. His cock throbbed at the sound Michael made; a loud, high pitched keening noise that Luke could almost picture his face, eyes rolled back slightly and mouth hanging open. Michael loved rough stuff and Luke really tried to keep it to a minimum usually so he'd have an upper hand when he needed so. 

He squirmed around. Michaels leg pushed in between his thighs, brushing against his cock. The older boy was just about on top of him, chests together. Michael peppered a few kisses to Luke's neck, sloppy and wet; Michaels signature trademark. 

Luke felt confined in the tight boxers hanging from his waist. He tried to pull them off, struggling as Michael just about had him pinned to the bed. Michael seemed to like his idea and pulled them down the blondes legs, dropped them onto the bed beside him. 

Michaels breathing was weird, laboured almost. He sounded like he had a chest cold and Luke was very aware of why. His fingers were teasing the skin of Michaels tummy above the waistband of his sleeping shorts. 

Luke pulled the boxers from Michaels body, letting the elastic material stretch to the fullest before snapping it back to his body. Michael let out a groan and grabbed Luke's side roughly. The younger boy hoped he'd had fingerprints of Michaels hands on his body in the morning.

"What do you want?" Michael breathed. Luke wished his voice would have broken, he liked when he could get a rise that big out of Michael. 

"You." Luke replied. 

Michael kissed him softly. His lips were cool to the touch and wet like Michael had been licking them in nervousness. His tongue played along Luke's lips until he opened his mouth and allowed Michael to delve in, to explore. 

Luke pushed his hand into Michaels bottoms, fingers playing around the older boys cock but never quite touching it. He could feel the harsh bite of Michaels teeth into his lips as his knuckle brushed the tip of his cock, and he could practically taste the groan that echoed from the boys mouth. Luke took his cock into his hand, stroking him slowly. He wanted this to last, he wanted everything to last. 

Michael kissed his cheek, up his nose to his throat and behind his ear before nibbling on the cartridge, tongue riding the curve of his ear. His own hands were on Luke's sides, holding tightly as if the younger boy was a life line. Michael released Luke and took his bottoms off. He hated being confined to the patterned bottoms when he could have Luke's mouth or hand busy on him.

Luke moved his hand a bit faster. He could feel Michaels hair tickling at his forehead and the faint scent of shampoo hit his nose. 

And then Michael was rolling them over, Luke on top. He pulled at Luke's shirt, ripping the material over the boys head and throwing it on the floor. 

Luke could feel Michaels cock beneath him, pressing against his thigh deliciously. Michael wasted no time though, he had two fingers slicked up and rubbing around Luke's hole before the younger boy could say 'I love you'. 

"Yeah?" Michael asked as he dipped a finger into Luke's warm heat. The blonde boy whined, leaning forward to kiss Michael. Luke knew Michael loved the responses Luke gave, whether in words or indistinguishable moans and groans, it was all a huge turn on for his boyfriend. 

Luke nodded in response quickly. He slid his body back, taking Michaels finger deeper inside of him. It was an amazing feeling that Luke just couldn't get enough of. He wanted, in the worst way, to ram himself down on Michaels finger but he didn't, instead he let Michael fingerfuck him at his pace.

Michael chuckled but it was weak, like he didn't have enough air in his lungs to laugh properly. He pushed the second finger in and Luke was done, he couldn't help himself. His body reacted automatically, slamming back to swallow the fingers into his hole. He moaned out, shifting his body rapidly. "F-fuck."

Michael grunted in response, scissoring his fingers until Luke was almost in a puddle on his lap, whining and keening for more. He rolled Luke off of him slightly and covered his cock in lube.

Luke was panting loudly and dying for Michaels cock to fuck the shit out him. When Michael pulled him back onto his lap and pushed in, Luke groaned, head tipping back and mouth wide open. His cock was bigger than his fingers and it stretched Luke so good every single time and the younger boy was completely immersed in the feeling. 

Michael was slow fucking into him, taking his time to build a pace that would ultimately drive Luke nuts and probably give him the best orgasm of his life. Luke tried to fuck himself on Michaels cock and got away with it for a few minutes until Michaels hands planted themselves on Luke's hips and held him down. He could feel Michael inside of him, how his cock spread him so nicely and was so deep in him. 

The older boy was slow at snapping his hips up to meet Luke's desperate ones. Luke was sure he looked like he was close to tears. He clawed at Michaels chest softly, not wanting to hurt him as much as rile him up to the point of Michael losing control of this slow, sensual time and just fucking him like crazy. 

Michael, though, seemed to be immune to Luke's incessant and desperate pleads for more, and Luke whined out. The older boy must've felt bad or really just wanted to come because he pulled Luke's face down, one hand still planted on Luke's hip, and kissed him hard, biting his lip roughly, probably drawing blood. 

Luke didn't mind to much because Michael was picking up his pace and Luke felt this coil of tension spreading through his tummy. He flattened his hand to Michaels torso, the older boys grasp slipping on his hips. He lifted his body slightly before slamming it down repeatedly, swearing and moaning beneath his breath.

"I love you." Luke choked out. He felt so close to coming, he was having trouble breathing. 

Michael ran his hand up Luke's back, trailing his spine. His hips were moving at a rapid pace sloppily. "I love you too, you fucking sap."

Luke whined, reaching down to pump his cock. He felt so close, he just needed that little bump to get him to the edge. His hand did the trick and he was quickly coming over his fingers and Michaels tummy. He pumped himself through his orgasm, before slumping down on Michael as the older boy continued to fuck up into him, releasing whines and curses. Luke loved when Michael cursed, it was beautiful and funny, and made his tummy clench at all of the times Luke had made him curse. 

Michael let out a guttural moan as he came, hips stilling, cock spilling into Luke. The younger boy shuddered at the feeling of Michael filling him up. He shifted his hips, ignoring the sensitive feeling floating through his body.

Luke was so spent and Michael was lazy. They ended up using Michaels new shirt to wipe themselves off before snuggling back under the blankets, Michaels arms wrapped around Luke's torso, holding him close to his front.

"I love you." Michael kissed Luke's ear softly.

"I love you too." Luke sighed. His boxers were staticky against the sheets but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He was immersed in Michael, as usual. 

And it was a wonderful feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Leave some feedback/kudos if you want!
> 
> You can send prompts to my tumblr @/ antisocialhood or leave them in the comments.
> 
> I need some opinions too really quickly.
> 
> How would you guys feel about a cisgirl!fic? Probably Luke and Michael (as they're the only pairing I seem to be able to write right now). I want to pop out a Lashton fic before that but I don't know if I want to write that because i'm pretty shit at female smut.
> 
> And, how about for the lashton fic if I do a striptease!luke for boyfriend!ashton to earned it? Because I've been having some thoughts about that and I really wanna do it!
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think!
> 
> Have a wonderful weekend and a lovely week!
> 
> Much love,
> 
> x


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